Day 113

Scripture: Ps 131, 132, 134, 135; 1 Samuel 13:5-18; Acts 8:26-40; Luke 23:13-25


Scripture standout: Ps 135: "⁵ I know that the LORD is great, 
   that our Lord is greater than all gods. 
⁶ The LORD does whatever pleases him, 
   in the heavens and on the earth, 
   in the seas and all their depths. 
⁷ He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; 
   he sends lightning with the rain 
   and brings out the wind from his storehouses."



Morning thoughts: Yesterday I loaded up the troops in Beast Master for a late afternoon trip to the pool. It was starting to get grey and overcast. But we pressed on. By the time we reached the pool, a distant sound of thunder prompted the lifeguard to vacate the pools. Even though it wasn't raining yet, and there was even a bit of sun peaking through the clouds, thunder = no pool. Them's the rules.

Qodrat did not, could not, and would not understand this rule. He doesn't appreciate — or follow on many occasions — some of our U.S. rules. Not being able to swim in a perfectly good pool on a perfectly good and not rainy yet afternoon, falls into that category. It's the same section of misunderstanding that bike helmets and having to wear life jackets during Solace pool events fall. Qodrat huffed. He huffed at me. He huffed at the pool chairs. He sighed. He shook his head. "I want to go in the pool," he muttered angrily. When the rains came and we had to leave the pool altogether, he was POd. And he stayed that way the rest of the evening. "I'm not hungry," was his retort when we got home and prepared for dinner. Pout. Pout. Pout.

I love parenting situations like this one where you can completely remove yourself from the guilt. I didn't make the rule. And I can't put a hold on the rain and thunder. It's in somebody else's hands. I wish all challenges were that easy to pawn off — maybe they are?


His Deed/The Day: Today, I embraced the roll of bus driver for a number of pre-teens and two interpreters. Let me underscore again, that I am not a moving parts person — I am a logistics dropout. But just as soon as I let go of the planning, it all came together just right.

Qudrat has been playing with our home phone, which is actually a cell phone. He texted me a message while I napped during my post bus driver duties: "Mom, I miss you, I love you. Bey." That's worth all the fare change I could have gotten today and then some.